IN TOO DEEP

CHAPTER 13

ANA POINT OF VIEW

And so, just like that, it happens.

One minute, Christian and I are mucking around, dancing to Frank's amazing tunes while he's sort of drunk. And then, next thing I know, we're taking it further, and we're kissing.

I'd be lying if I dared to say I hadn't fantasized about this moment, because I have, tons of times.

But even although I've fantasized about it, it doesn't stop me from being utterly unprepared. I'm caught unprepared, shocked that my fantasy has turned into a sudden reality within the space of a short second.

First, I'm lifting up with both hands, looping my arms around his neck, even playing with the silky short hairs on the back of the nape of his neck with my fingers, our faces close.

And then, he bends down and kisses me, pressing his lips firmly to mine.

You'd think with the amount of time I'd been infatuated and daydreaming about the man, that I'd know how to smoothly take charge and kiss him back.

It's uncountable; the amount of times I've stared at the man's mouth and lips whenever he eats something or drinks something; whenever he smiles or laughs while talking to me. And now, here we are, and he's actually kissing me, and I feel stunned, all thought leaving me for a second due to the shock of it.

I'm surprised how warm and rough his lips actually feel against mine. It's what really shocks me the most. For some reason, I hadn't expected them to feel quite like this against my own lips.

I don't even have the time to properly remind myself of how bad this probably is.

I mean, this is Kate's dad, my best friend's father, and we're kissing. I know I ought to move back, to feel guilty even, yet I don't even have the time to feel it. All I can seem to feel is how warm and tight his mouth is, the pressure of his lips against my own, and how fast my heart is beating in my chest.

Our lips part, then he pushes his tongue tentatively into the tip of mine. I taste him, all warm and wet. He tastes like that disgusting bottle of alcohol he's drinking, yet... all deliciously him as well. Vaguely, I'm aware I make a noise and I think I hear him make a noise through Frank's crooning as well; a deep, throaty sexy sound.

And then, all too soon, it's finished.

Reaching blindly behind me, he grabs hold onto both of my wrists, yanking my arms down away from his head, untangling himself from me. I don't even get to catch a glimpse of his expression because, the instant I reopen my eyes after him moving away from me, I see he's not facing me. Christian steps towards the wall, his back and shoulders the only thing I can see. He lifts up with both arms, resting all his weight on each knuckles of his hands against the wall as he stands there, his head hanging low. Throughout the music that still plays between us, I get the impression that he's hiding himself from me, he's ashamed.

The guilt I'm expecting to hit me finally does, crushing my heart, weighing it down heavily as I tongue around my lips, them still warm and moist from him kissing me. Oh, God. What have we just done? While a selfish part of me cannot help but be over the moon and happy that he's kissed me, that I've finally had a fantasy come true, it sinks in on how wrong it is, what we've done, to my best friend especially, to his daughter. And it's obvious he feels it, too.

I breathe heavily, desperately, watching the back of his shoulders as he stands there for a long moment, refusing to turn to look at me. He's so still, so rigid, holding himself up against the wall with his knuckles, his head still ducked low.

I think I can hear him panting loudly, trying to suck air desperately back into his lungs as Frank continues to sing from his CD.

All I can seem able to do is stand there stupidly, feeling helpless. It's obvious even though he isn't facing me or has his face to me, that he's taking what just happened badly. Maybe even more badly than I am.

I want to say something, to apologize, or to tell him at the very least that I really didn't mind it. Yet when I lick my lips again and open my mouth, trying to form meaningful words, I can't seem able to. A foolish croak just leaves me, a mere uncertain whimper.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Finally I hear him through Frank's voice as another song starts to play on the CD immediately, a new track I haven't heard before. His voice sounds frustrated and... something else as well. Something like shame, maybe? Embarrassment? "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he mutters a moment later, through what sounds like clenched teeth. I see the back of his head move as he shakes it several times. I can tell the alcohol is starting to effect him even more than it already has; He's started to sound slightly slurry. Usually he doesn't swear much, so I know it's bad. "Jesus... fuck."

I'm not sure whether Christian's speaking to me or not, but I suspect he's talking more to himself. He's beating himself up, and really, should he? He can't take all the blame. This is my fault too, after all.

I'd lied later on tonight, when I'd shown up at his place. I hadn't forgotten Kate wouldn't be home, that she'd gone to her mother's this weekend. It just makes my heart swell with miserable guilt even more. I'd come here on purpose tonight, hoping to catch Christian alone. I'd done it on purpose, using Kate being away to my advantage. I really do not need anyone worrying about me staying home on week nights or weekends by myself, even at my age. I can look after myself perfectly well and yet, I played on it and pretended otherwise, taking advantage of Christian's good hearted concern.

Does that make me a bad person? An even worse friend to Kate? Definitely, and I know it does.

"You cannot begin to imagine how sorry I am," Christian begins muttering, still hiding his face from me, into the wall. "I am so sorry. Ever since Katherine's mother, I..." He says more, but his voice drops so low that I can't hear him properly. He murmurs something about the alcohol and other things as well.

It's heartbreaking and the sudden extreme guilt I feel overpowers any momentary happiness that my fantasy has become a reality. I have never really seen a grown man like this before, sounding so helpless, so damaged and upset with guilt. It breaks my heart. I'd never thought it would effect him like this, if we ever even did something like this. I never once thought how he would have felt afterwards.

"Such a... terrible, terrible person," I hear him whisper, anguished. "So... fucked up. I'm so..." He moves a hand away from the wall, covering over his face, "So... so sorry."

"Christian," I murmur softly. "Mr Grey, I... um..." I have no idea what to say. I mean, I know what I want to say, but it won't come out properly. It just won't seem to. I hate that he's reacting this way but, then again, what do I expect? "Please don't say your sorry. If anything, um, I'm the one that's sorry. I didn't..."

"Your sorry?"

Running his hand slowly through his hair, he finally seems to muster the courage to push away from the wall. He turns to look at me, meeting my gaze briefly before dropping his eyes back down to the floor.

"Your sorry, Anastasia?" he repeats again softly, as if he cannot believe me and what I've just said. "You dare to tell me that your sorry when I'm the adult here and I should have known better?"

His demeanor alone illustrates how weighed down with guilt he feels, how angry at himself over what we just did and how remorseful he is.

Rubbing the back of his hand over his face and around his eyes, he shakes his head again. And then, slowly, he sinks to the floor, kneeling with his knees splayed apart, leaning his back against the wall he'd been previously standing against for support. He peers down at his hands as he holds them out in front of him, playing with his long fingertips.

That time I'd caught him being emotional, crying in the kitchen is nothing compared to how he looks now. He looks so vulnerable, so disappointed with himself as he stares at nothing else but his fingertips and hands, his jaw set tight.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, a hoarse whine. "Words cannot explain just how... sorry I am. I've been in a particularly... fragile frame of mind lately. I'm not saying that to try to excuse what I just did, but..." He shakes his head, sighing heavily through his mouth, his brows furrowing.

"It wasn't just you," I point out, wanting and needing to take the blame as well. "It was me, too. And I... I meant what I said before it happened, Christian. Truly."

"You meant what?" He lifts his chin, meeting my gaze again, his gray eyes glistening with confusion.

"I wanted it to happen." A lump forms in my throat, a painful, guilty one. "When I... I said that I wanted to be brave, that I... I wanted to do it and be brave otherwise I'll regret it forever, I meant it. And I know that makes me selfish, especially because... I never thought it completely through about how you'd react to it, especially like how you are... now."

He doesn't say anything, not even when I fall to knees as well, leaning against the ground near him. I figure I may as well say it, even if he already has probably a faint idea of it himself.

"I know it sounds, um, crazy but... ever since I 1st came over here, I've had this sort of, um..." I feel my cheeks blister with heat as I glance down at my own hands, lacing them together in my lap. I've never done this before- bearing my heart to someone else, especially someone I like- but I figure I have to in order to make him feel better, no matter how embarrassing it is and scary. "I've had this huge crush on you, and it... it really hasn't gone away."

I blurt out a short laugh at my own idiocy, keeping my eyes low, refusing to look at him. It's easier if I cannot see his reaction. He probably thinks I'm so stupid, so childish, but I don't care. I feel he needs to know, even if... obviously it probably can't go anywhere.

"I haven't really felt this way about somebody before. I mean, I... I've never liked someone this much before." I swallow dryly, playing with my fingers. "It's weird because... I know your older, a lot older than me, and your, um... my best friend's father. I've honestly never been in a situation like this before. I know it's probably... stupid." I inhale in deeply through my nose, overcome with shaky feelings of fear, of vulnerability. I feel exposed, in a scary way that I haven't felt ever before. Yet it's liberating as well, getting it all off my chest. "You've probably noticed it yourself anyway, haven't you, just how I... um, react around you? I mean, I know you aren't blind?"

Bracing myself, I force myself to peer over at his face quickly, my cheeks gushing with heat again. Mr Grey, Christian, he stares at me, blinking slowly, listening carefully. Biting my lip apprehensively, I drag my eyes away quickly, peering back down at my hands.

I pick at a nail cuticle nervously, inhaling in deeply.

"I can see that you've been going through a tough time, what with your divorce and all and I... I liked how you would confide in me," I admit, my voice going lower, quieter. I don't think I've ever felt so nervous before; My stomach is literally in knots. "When I'd tell you that your amazing or when I'd... sort of try to support you into getting back into dating, I guess I... I did it as well because I really like you, and I do find you to be amazing and that any woman would be lucky to have you." I'm probably just rambling senselessly to him, but he hasn't told me to stop yet at least. I figure I may as well just get it all off my chest before I lose courage forever anyway. "And I'm not silly. I mean, I know that things could never happen between us, because... you know, I'm your daughters friend and your her father and... I imagine Kate would be so upset, but..." I shake my head. "Bad as it is, I still wanted it to happen with us kissing and that never stopped me wanting it."

"I wanted it too," he breathes, and I fell my heart stop as my eyes dart up to his face questioningly. What? Did he just say that he wanted it too? Or am I just imagining it because I just wish he'd say that to me?

I gaze at him, holding my breath, my heart pounding as he closes his eyes slowly, exhaling loudly through his nose. He keeps his eyes shut for a few minutes, nothing but Frank playing in the background, so many emotions on his face all at once. There's shame, embarrassment, nerves, I think. Guilt, too.

"I wanted it too, Anastasia," Christian finally breathes again, his eyes still shut, his voice tight. "I know it's... wrong of me, but... I wanted it too." He opens his eyes to focus them on me, hardly blinking. "Which... as you can imagine, puts me in an excruciatingly difficult situation here." He shakes his head once, gritting his teeth. "All I can really say is that I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize for-"

"- But I do, Anastasia," he interrupts me firmly. "I'm the adult here and I should have never let what happened tonight happen. I should have been more..." He pauses, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair as he thinks about a good word to describe it, "Responsible and, for that, I'm sorry. I should know better than this."

He sighs loudly and shakes his head as he drops his gaze down at his fingers again, his jaw rigid.

"You know what you mentioned earlier tonight while upset?" he asks, hinting to before when I knocked on his door, how I'd admitted to overhearing him telling Kate that I should no longer stay on weekends because we were spending too much time together and needed healthy time apart in his eyes.

"Yes," I reply cautiously. "You don't want me coming around to the house as much, especially on... full weekends? You said that Kate and I spend too much time together?"

He shakes his head, lowering his eyes to his hands again, clenching and unclenching them. Why does he look so ashamed all of a sudden? "Yes, well, about that," he murmurs softly, "It wasn't entirely the truth or the real reason."

"It wasn't?" I'm confused.

"It was solely for me," he admits, glancing up at me briefly before glancing down again. "I thought it would somehow be..." He shakes his head again, conflicted, "Easier if you weren't around as much, if I didn't have to... see you as much."

"Easier?"

"The... the attraction," he explains, lifting a hand. He rakes his fingers slowly through his hair again. "I thought, selfishly... that if I could somehow get some time away, if you wouldn't come to the house as often then I could..." He trails off, shrugging. "Essentially stop all of this." He curses under his breath again. "Jesus Christ. If Katherine even began to even know about this, if she knew we were even having a conversation like this right now-"

"-She won't know," I assure him. "And I would never tell her, Christian." I would never purposefully endanger his relationship with his daughter like that. That isn't the type of person that I am.

"We have to be realistic about this, which is really... the only way we can be," Christian continues after a moment thoughtfully. He reaches up, rubbing around his chin with his fingers pensively. "To do anything else would only... complicate things. It would only make it messy, on everyone involved."

"I know that," I murmur.

"I think what we can only do is carry on the way we are. We can just... try to be 'friends', in a sense. At the end of the day, your my... daughters friend, and I'm your friends father. There are so many... ways that this could turn out terribly and really, I don't want to jeopardize anything." He meets my gaze, something there in his eyes. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I think I can." He's right and I know it would only be foolish to wish for anything else. "I know what your saying completely." Despite how guilty it was and how we both felt bad about it afterwards, the kiss was amazing and everything I'd hoped for. But of course, he's right. We can never do anything about this, no matter how much I wish we could.

"We have to be realistic about this. Sensible." I nod, biting down on my lip again. "And I have no doubts whatsoever that... eventually, when you start college or... whenever, you'll meet someone. A nice, young man who will completely knock you off your feet, and you'll forget all about this, and you won't... feel whatever it is that you think you feel for me anymore." Christian inhales through his mouth deeply. "One day, when we see each other again while you and Katherine are still friends and you're both a lot older, we'll secretly look back on this night and hopefully, think of it as something... humorous that happened instead of something awkward or... something to be embarrassed about."

"I guess so."

I cannot help but be relieved when Christian nods at me, a small smile turning the corners of his lips up. I'm not too sure about what he's saying, of course. Really, no one can ever tell what the future holds, I suppose. But right now, all I know is that I have never liked a man as much as I like Christian.

Right now, I cannot see myself possibly ever thinking of anyone else in the way I think of him. But who knows? I suppose time can only tell, and we'll see.

Satisfied by the outcome of our heart-to-heart, I suppose, Christian stands, getting to his feet. He seems a little unsteady as he walks over to the CD player; He switches it off, Frank's voice suddenly disappearing. Now the room is too quiet, filled with tension. I don't know if he'll ask me to go home now after what's happened, but I brace myself for it, sucking in my breath.

"You can stay the weekend still in Katherine's room," he murmurs after a moment, as if reading my thoughts. "Of course, I don't expect you to go home when your mother isn't there. I'd feel happier knowing that you are safe and looked after here."

"Thank you," I murmur appreciatively, getting to my feet myself.

CHRISTIAN POINT OF VIEW

I think it's almost the hardest thing I've ever done, speaking about such things with Anastasia. Honestly, I never envisioned us having such a conversation together, but ultimately, I am glad that we did.

It's really the only right way to approach this. It's the only way I can see it going. And, I have no doubts in my mind whatsoever, that what she thinks she feels for me, it's a passing phase. Just like how I felt when I was younger, with the older therapist, it'll fizzle out and she'll get distracted by handsome young men at her school and once she starts college. Surely she won't have a thing for an old codger like me forever. I have faith in that.

I still cannot shake off that sense of guilt as I head into the kitchen, pouring myself a long glass of water. I really need to sober up.

What's more, sadly, I cannot shake off the warm imprint and taste of her lips as I lick my mouth before sipping at the water. I shake my head in admonishment, rubbing my bottom lip with my fingers, then I swallow another mouthful of water down. I cannot believe what just happened and how fucking careless I had been. I regret it, how inappropriate and out of line I was to let it happen yet, at the same time, there's no hiding the fact that I had enjoyed it while it had happened.

Kissing with Anastasia-

No, I shake my head again, shutting the door on that line of thought immediately. I cannot go there. For my own sanity, I just cannot let myself go there any longer.

"Well, I guess I'll, um, head into Kate's room." Anastasia's hesitant voice alerts me to her following me into the kitchen. I find myself unable to cope with looking at her, so I keep my eyes down, my back to her.

"Of course. Just sing out if you need anything. If you need any more pillows or blankets, just let me know."

"Okay. Thank you again."

I nod, listening carefully to her retreating footsteps.

I have no idea how this weekend is going to go down with her being here.

Us doing what we did, I try to think of it more as getting it out of my system, so to speak. I've acknowledged that I feel attracted to her, and yes, we shared a kiss briefly, but that's all it can be, it's all it can ever amount to. I've had a 'taste' of it, in a sense, and that's all it can ever be. Just tonight, a quick taste of kissing her, of letting it out of my system. And now, it's back to being responsible again, to carry on.

I cannot let it happen again.

Deciding to call it a night, I shut off all the lights and make sure the front door is locked. Then I start stepping up the stairs. On the top step to where my daughter's room is, I see that the door is still ajar and halfway open, the light on. Anastasia hasn't turned off the light yet to go to sleep, obviously. Out of concern for her- and nothing else, or so I tell myself- I start approaching the room while trying to be quiet about it.

I peek in quickly. I spot Anastasia pulling the covers down on my daughter's bed, her back facing me, backside arched in the air, her legs exposed in the small shorts she's wearing.

I know I shouldn't even be watching, particularly after our conversation downstairs, yet I feel inexplicably glued to the doorway for some reason. My ears are still buzzing, an aftereffect from the alcohol. I'm probably going to have a nasty hangover in the morning, something to look forward to.

Once she's finished yanking down the sheets halfway, she reaches down towards her feet, pulling and sliding off the pair of grey cotton socks she's wearing. Her bare feet look smooth and femininely small, her toenails painted black.

I see myself then, in a sort of out of body experience. Entering the room, coming up behind her. Her turning to look at me with those eyes of hers, wide and surprised. Pushing her down on the bed, moving over her.

My legs between hers, her thighs squeezing around my hips, her ankles digging into my backside. Having her. Fucking her real good.

The thought shakes me, and I back away slowly, cautious not to be found out.

I find myself questioning whether I should have actually agreed to letting her stay with me for the weekend, knowing we'll be alone.

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPDATE, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY. HOPE THIS ONE ISN'T BAD, I PROMISE TO WRITE MORE VERY SOON NOW THAT I GOT TIME AS LIFE HAS SETTLED DOWN A BIT. :) I HOPE IT ISN'T TOO BORING AS SOME GUEST REVIEWERS HAVE EXPRESSED, THIS IS ULTIMATELY CHRISTIAN/ANA SO IT WILL HAPPEN, EVEN WITH DOUBTS.